


Marching Songs

by harmonia_bloom



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28781301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harmonia_bloom/pseuds/harmonia_bloom
Summary: Tigris reflects on the horrors of war.TW: mention of prostitution.
Kudos: 1





	Marching Songs

Wednesday, melancholy time at five-thirty, when it rains. It rained damp and cold in the suffocating November afternoon. She was walking towards the train, her shoes wet. At least the train seemed like progress in the midst of the decadent times. It gave her the feeling of being in another country. The decay around it scared her so much that she lost himself in her own thoughts when she settled on a bench. Suddenly, the atmosphere became even darker. She noticed the loneliness there, running along the streets of a city that was once beautiful.

Yes, memory did not fail: her childhood bathed in the great wonders that this place offered. She used to visit the most beautiful gardens with her colorful clothes, next to her dear cousin. But life does not wait - everything must go on. Everything needs to progress, even if it means losing a girl's happiness.

Now a tear fell from her eyes, making her believe that she was being watched by everyone. How could anyone demonstrate that she felt anything beyond the mists of pain? Did they not remember their relatives? Their own hunger?

She smiled at the memory of the old school, one of the reasons for her life being so dramatic. Her friends... All lost, struggling to survive. Their minds surrendered to the honor of serving the Capitol. "Damn Capitol", she murmured, feeling more tears streaming down her cheekbones.

And there was no one to blame. She felt in her veins the blood shed by many, most of them unknown, from lands almost devastated by men's greed.

She could hear songs of bravery - marching songs. All lost in a heretical faith. How to save those who are already gone? Subordinates obeyed. Superiors sat comfortably in their seats, waiting for destruction. One side would only win, and if it were not the right side, the bloodthirsty of their generations would attack. They would kill. They would pull more out of the hope that was left.

Taking a deep breath, keeping her cool, she felt the train's slight thrust as it stopped. It was her point. The world was over, but the war was not. She felt the consequences, madness was coming, but she couldn't think about it. She needed another drink; there, nothing would make sense. And she would be fine, as she had been the first time she had to sell her own body. How she had been to see some dying so fast and others rebuilding paths with the same speed, in a way that she could never do.


End file.
